


You're Still the One

by mmaree



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Pining, Song Lyrics, Songfic, gratuitous fonding, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 03:50:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7919416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmaree/pseuds/mmaree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn gets a second chance to make things right--if he wants it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Still the One

**Author's Note:**

> written for the[1D Lyric Wheel Challenge](http://1dlyricwheel.tumblr.com/) on tumblr

 

“Hey you,” Zayn murmurs, gazing lazily at the boy next to him.  Liam doesn’t stir.  There’s a warm breeze filtering in from the garden, and it ruffles through Liam’s hair just as Zayn wishes he could do.  It rustles the bedroom curtains and cuts though the sweltering August heat.  Zayn can’t actually feel it, but he knows it’s there.  He can see it just as he can see Liam lying beside him.  Perfect Liam.

“Hey you,” Zayn says again, louder this time.  His breath tickles Liam’s face, or he likes to think it does as the other boy reflexively touches his own cheek.  Zayn wants to do the same, but he knows he can’t cross that boundary.  Still, he wants to.  _God_ does he want to. 

He wants more but he also knows he can’t have more.  It’s too late for that.  And so he contents himself with watching the other boy sleep, admiring the steady ebb and flow of Liam’s breath as his chest rises and falls to an implicit rhythm.  Zayn wonders what Liam’s dreaming about, wonders if he’s dreaming of him.  Liam _used to_ dream of him.

Zayn shouldn’t hope for these things--he knows this, but sometimes he does anyway.  Sometimes he imagines what it would be like if he could touch Liam again.  To drag his fingers across that jaw or press his lips against that birthmark just one more time.  It doesn’t seem like too much to ask for.

He closes his eyes, and then he’s back, back in Limbo or whatever this place is.  ‘The inbetween’--that’s what this Louis character called it.  Before he got here, Zayn thought it would look more like a hospital waiting room, all white and minimalistic.  Instead, he’s stuck in what appears to be a deserted boardwalk.  All Zayn knows for sure is that he doesn’t have to feel anything here unless he chooses to.  And right now, he chooses to feel nothing.

“You can still go back,” Louis states matter-of-factly, as if it were easy, as if Zayn hasn’t stopped thinking about that for a single second since he arrived.  “You’ll have to face the suffering again though.  They say that’s a real drag.”

“It hurts,” he whimpers.  He doesn’t like to think about that, the pain.  Not just the pain from the accident either but the everyday dull ache of life, of human existence. 

Louis chuckles at him patronisingly.  “I don’t know what to tell you about that.  You can’t pick and choose, mate.  Either you’re all in or not.  You can’t go halfsies with this shit.”

 _I only want to go back if I can have Liam again._  

“Yeah, that’s not how it works,” Louis says, invading his thoughts.  “Soz, bro.  I don’t make the rules.”

It’s eerie the way Louis answers his unspoken thoughts.  Zayn hates it.  He’s still not used to it although he’s pretty sure he’s been here a couple of weeks now.  Him, Louis, and the emptiness which surrounds them.  Zayn thinks there’s something particularly lonely about a fair after summer’s gone and the rides are all shut down.

“Listen, I don’t want to go through the pain again if it’s just gonna be the same as it was, if I’m going to be the same old fuck-up and piss on everything good in my life again.  I don’t want that.”  He sounds like a petulant child but he doesn’t care. 

“All that’s up to you, Zayn.  You’re the one in the driver’s seat.  Ooh, maybe that was a piss-poor choice of words since you literally drove your car off a cliff, didn’t you, mate?”  Louis clucks his tongue but doesn’t really seem sympathetic--not that Zayn deserves the sympathy, mind you.  After all, it was his bloody idea to step on the pedal when he was rounding that curve in the middle of a storm.  It wasn’t premeditated, but in a way Zayn knew what he was doing.  He knew what would happen.  Still, he hadn’t specifically planned to off himself when he went out driving that night to clear his mind.  His thoughts had been too loud, and the rain beating down on the roof of the car, even louder.  That’s when the urge came.  He had acted on it without thinking really.  Simple as that.

“Yeah, that driver’s seat analogy was kind of naff,” Louis admits, “but you know what I mean.  You’re the one out there making the decisions.” 

“Yeah, that’s the problem,” Zayn gripes, shaking his head.  “It shouldn’t be left up to me.  I’m the last fucking person who should be consulted.  I make a right mess of everything.  Always have done.” 

He immediately thinks of Liam again, of how he drove him away.  It was almost an art form the way Zayn had done it, too:  walling up his feelings, ‘forgetting’ their anniversary, and flirting with waiters and bartenders he couldn’t give a toss about.  Three years gone to shit in a couple of months.  He had sabotaged the relationship because it was getting too good.  Because Liam had mentioned things like kids, and a mortgage, and _forever_. 

And Zayn knew he wasn’t good enough to be Liam’s forever.  Not by a fucking longshot.

“So,” Louis presses, “what do you want to do?”

“I thought you were supposed to be all-powerful or something?  Why can’t you tell me what to do or whatever?  Why can’t fate give me a break once in a while?”

“That’s not--”

“…how it works,” Zayn finishes with a scowl.  “Yeah, I know.  You’ve said that already.”

“Well, you’re going to have to make a decision either way soon.  This can’t go on indefinitely,” Louis snips.  “Well, I mean, technically it can, but it doesn’t look good on my CV, mate.  I’m not planning on keeping this gig forever, you know.  _I would_ like to get a promotion in the next century or two.”

“Okay, fine.  Send me back then.”

Louis’ eyes almost pop out of his head.  “You sure?  You want to go back all of a sudden, just like that?  After you’ve literally been moping about here for--”

“I thought you’d be pleased with that choice,” Zayn cuts in, frustration building.  “I thought that was the point, like.”

Louis scrunches his nose.  “What point?”

Zayn searches for a way to explain himself.  He didn’t know how an angel--if that was even what this Louis guy was--could be this thick.  “I mean, isn’t the goal here for you to persuade me how good I had it?”  Louis is looking at him blankly, but he shoves on anyway.  “Isn’t your job to get me to realise my life was worth living and all that rubbish?  Don’t you, like, get bonus points or whatever if I choose to go back?”

Louis studies him curiously, lips pursed and arms folded across his chest.  “You’ve been watching too many films, bro.  Like I said earlier, you can choose to move up or shove off.  I’m not bothered either way--as long as you make a bloody decision, that is.”

Zayn thinks hard.  He’s still not sure.  “Alright, can I go back temporarily, like?”

“You can go back anytime you want,” Louis counters, completely missing the point.  “Weren’t you just back there watching that guy sleep again?  Which, by the way, is kind of creepy if you ask me.”

“No, I don’t want that.  I don’t want to be invisible.”  Truth is, Zayn’s felt invisible for a while now--ever since Harry had dragged him along to see _Breakfast at Tiffany’s_ in the park a couple of months back.  They’d barely arrived when Zayn spotted Liam by a cluster of trees, arm hooked around the waist of some pretty brunette.  Zayn hadn’t meant to stare, but he couldn’t help it, couldn’t help the pain and shock he felt at seeing Liam with someone else.  He felt it keenly then, maybe for the first time:  he’d made a mistake.  He’d made a huge fucking mistake. 

Then, as he stood there like an idiot, Liam saw him.  Zayn’s breath hitched in his throat as he waited for an acknowledgment, for something.  _Anything_.  Expressionless brown eyes swept over him and then…

Nothing.  Liam turned to face his date again and the two strolled off.  That was the last time Zayn had seen his ex-boyfriend--while Zayn was alive and conscious anyway.

“I want to be sure of something,” Zayn tells Louis, blinking away the past he can’t change.  “I want Liam to be able to see me.  I want to be able to feel everything again…even if it’s only a few hours.”

Louis sighs dramatically and Zayn can tell he’s caving.  Zayn wonders if the two of them would have been mates if they had known each other when they were both alive. 

“Fat chance,” Louis snorts, answering his unspoken thoughts again.  Zayn smiles.  “And about going back for a short visit…I’ll talk to me supervisors and see what I can do.  I’m not promising anything, mind you,” he warns as Zayn goes to thank him.  “Wait here.”

Zayn scans his surroundings.  He can’t really go far in this broken-down fairground.  “Yeah, no problem,” he shrugs.  “I’ll be on the Ferris wheel.”  As Zayn heads off to the empty ride, he hears Louis mutter under his breath:

“Bloody humans.  Should’ve known better than to get my hopes up.”

Zayn turns around, but Louis is already gone.

 

*****

 

Zayn can’t believe he’s here, can’t believe he’s back at Liam's door after everything.  It’s almost surreal.  He rings the bell, and as he waits for Liam to answer, he realises too late that he hasn’t rehearsed what he’s going to say.  It doesn’t really matter because he would’ve forgotten everything the moment Liam appeared at the door, hair tousled and wearing nothing but a pair of joggers.    

“Hey you,” Zayn stumbles out, sliding a hand nervously through his own hair.

Liam looks at him unsure for a moment but then his face clouds over.  “That’s all?” he demands.  

“Hello?” Zayn tries again.  He feels shaky.  It’s like a sugar rush, feeling everything again all at once.  He clears his throat.  “I know it’s been a while but--”

“It’s been three months, Zayn,” Liam corrects him.  There’s an edge to his voice that Zayn doesn’t recognise.  “You can’t just show up at my door at midnight after three bloody months.  It doesn’t work like that.”

Zayn almost leaves then, but a voice tells him to stay, reminds him he has nothing to lose.  He wonders if it’s Louis interfering with his thoughts again but then realises how daft that sounds. 

“Wait--I thought you were in an accident?” Liam asks, the veil of sleep finally lifted.

Zayn had anticipated that question of course.  Louis had coached him on it even.  “Yeah, I was…but it wasn’t as bad as they thought.  Just a few scrapes and bruises, mostly.” 

Liam narrows his eyes.  “That’s not what Harry said when he called on Thursday.  He said you’d been unconscious, Zayn, that they weren’t sure you were gonna….”  Liam’s voice catches as he closes his eyes and leans against the door.  “I-I was going to drive up to see you tomorrow.”

“You were?”   _You still care?_ The second question hangs between them.  Liam must feel it, too.  Zayn’s certain of it.

Liam bites his lip and looks at Zayn, _really_ looks at him for the first time in ages.  “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” Zayn falters, barely managing to meet the other boy’s eyes.  And then Zayn’s sobbing.  All the emotions he’s repressed for months pour out, and he’s reduced to a wailing mess.  He lets Liam lead him inside and soon he’s lying on the couch.  He’s still a fucking mess though.  He can’t even hear what Liam’s saying over all the Goddamn noise he’s making.  But he can’t stop.  It’s like the floodgates have finally opened, and he couldn’t close them even if he wanted to. 

At last, his sobs quiet down although his breath still comes in short, shuddering gasps.  He opens his eyes to see Liam hovering over him, eyebrows knitted. 

“You okay, babe?”  Liam is touching his cheek and suddenly he can’t remember why he was crying his soul out a few moments ago.  He nods and Liam exhales deeply.  “Why’d you do it?”

He doesn’t know what Liam means.  Or maybe he doesn’t want to know.  If Liam is asking him why Zayn got pissed and crashed his car two weeks ago, he _definitely_ doesn’t want to know.

But it isn’t that.  It’s something equally as unexpected though.  “Why’d you sabotage what we had, Zayn?”

“You knew?” he rasps out, throat blistering.

“Not at first,” Liam admits softly.  “But then it was so obvious, the more I thought about it.”

“I was scared,” Zayn explains, brushing away a tear.  “And stupid,” he adds.  “I was so stupid for letting you go.”

“Why’d you come here?” Liam demands.  It feels like a slap in the face even though he knows he deserves it.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats blindly as he stumbles to his feet.  He sees the front door and lunges towards it like he’s drowning and the surface is in sight.  He’s almost there, too, when he feels himself being pulled back down. 

“No, tell me why you came here, Zayn,” Liam insists.  “Was it because you felt guilty and wanted my forgiveness or was it something else?” 

Zayn’s back is against the wall now.  Literally.  He knows that if he really wanted to leave that Liam wouldn’t stop him, but he feels like he owes Liam an explanation, owes him at least that much.

He licks his lips.  “I wanted to apologise for acting like a tool before we broke up,” he starts and Liam’s body instantly slackens.  “And I wondered if….”  He stops himself.  He has no right to ask this, not after what he’s done.

But apparently Liam disagrees.  “Say it,” he urges.  He’s so close now, Zayn can feel Liam’s hot breath fanning his face.  And it’s too much.  He can’t think.

Zayn rests his head against the wall as lips drag across his jawline.  His knees buckle, but he doesn’t fall.  He can’t, not with how he’s being pinned up against the wall now.  He’s missed those strong hands gripping his waist, missed those hips locked to his.  Zayn’s eyes roll back into his head as Liam’s semi presses against his own stiff length. 

“Say it, Zayn.”

“I want you back,” he confesses.  He feels Liam’s body tense as he bulldozes on without thought of consequence.  “You’re still the one, Liam, and I want you back.  And…and I promise I won’t fuck it up this time.”

“That’s all I wanted to know, babe.” 

Before Zayn can process any of it, Liam’s swooping in for a hungry kiss.  It’s frantic and rough, all tongue and teeth, but it’s good.  So fucking good.

He’s barely recovered before Liam’s mouth is at his neck.  Zayn’s hands rake against Liam’s bare chest, and the younger boy makes an almost animalistic sound in response.  It’s hot--how needy Liam is, how needy they _both_ are. 

With his thumbs, Zayn now traces Liam’s V-lines down until he feels the waistband of Liam’s joggers.  Hooking his thumbs inside the elastic, he yanks them down.  Zayn releases a strangled moan as his own erection is freed by Liam’s deft fingers.  Liam pulls back slightly then, eyes dark with desire.  He maintains eye contact as he spits into his hand.  Zayn wants to watch, but his eyes are glued to the boy’s in front of him.  He isn’t in suspense long, however, as a large hand grasps both of them at once, flesh against flesh.  The feeling’s overwhelming, and Zayn braces himself.  The palms of his hands press flat against the wall as Liam jerks them off at the same time. 

And then he’s coming, white ribbons painting Liam’s chest as his hips stutter forward.  Liam’s contented moans follow soon after as he collapses against Zayn, mouthing sloppy kisses against his neck. 

Zayn’s head is still buzzing when Liam exits the room, saying something about needing to clean up.  Maybe Liam invites him to do the same.  Zayn’s not sure.  The only thing Zayn’s positive of is that they’re moving too fast.  He glances at the front door only a few feet away.  He doesn’t want to leave but maybe he should.  Maybe Liam needs space.  Maybe he needs time.

Zayn tells Liam all this when he returns a minute later.  Zayn’s still talking when Liam strides up to him and presses a firm finger to his lips.  “Please stay,” Liam says, and Zayn listens this time.  He follows him into his bedroom.  He’d follow Liam anywhere.

A short time later, Zayn turns off the tap and climbs into bed.  It’s a warm August night, yet neither of them seem to notice as they snuggle closer, legs tangled together.

“Hey you,” Liam coos, cupping his hand to his boyfriend’s cheek.  Zayn smiles at the familiar endearment.  It’s his line, really, but Liam can have it if he wants it.  In fact, Liam can have any damn thing he wants as far as Zayn is concerned.

He knows when he wakes up he’ll be in a cold hospital bed and not here, not wrapped up in the arms of the boy he loves.  He knows tonight will just be a dream for Liam--maybe for the both of them.  Zayn hadn’t clarified that part with Louis so he’s not sure if he’ll remember any part of this night when he awakens.  In any case, he knows he’ll have to start anew, that somehow he’ll have to convince Liam he’s worth taking a chance on again.  Zayn also knows he’ll have to rebuild his life, but he’s willing to put in the work.  He’s willing to do whatever it takes.

The thing is, he now knows it’s possible, that happiness and a ‘one true love’ is within his grasp if he fights for it.  And for the first time in a long time, he’s all in. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment, if you like, or come cry with me on tumblr: [zqua1d](http://zqua1d.tumblr.com/)


End file.
